


A Clan of Three

by raggamuffin44



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Minor Injuries, Mutual Pining, cleaning mando's injuries, little angsty, shy reader, touch-starved mando
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22265629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raggamuffin44/pseuds/raggamuffin44
Summary: Reader has been travelling with Mando and The Child for about a year now, and a lot has been left unsaid between them. Mutual pining all comes to a fruition after Mando is badly injured.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Dyn Jarren/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You, The Mandalorian/Reader, The Mandalorian/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 268





	A Clan of Three

**Author's Note:**

> This is from my tumblr @buckyodinson  
> I read a tumblr post that said:  
> "I wish I could read a mando x reader where the reader is all shy but passionate and mando craving for touch. But like, I know I can write it but I don’t want to write it, I want to read it, do you know what I mean?"  
> ... and kinda ran away with the idea.  
> This is the first thing I've written in a year and a half, but our boy Din made me want to start writing again.

There was a lot left unspoken on the Razor Crest as of late. You’d been travelling with Din and the Child for just over a year now, and barriers had slowly broken down in that time. A lot had been shared between the two of you, but a lot had been kept under wraps on both sides, through fear of rejection. You loved both Din and the Child with every fibre of your being, and it tore you apart trying not to just lay all your cards on the table, but you were terrified the gamble was too risky.

You would often be left on the Crest while Din fetched his latest bounty, staying to watch over the Child and keep him out of harms way. You felt a true maternal instinct, and while watching over the Child as he slept or played with whatever he could get his hands on in the cockpit, your thoughts would drift to the signet on Din’s pauldron - _a clan of two_ \- and how desperately you wished to be a clan of three. 

You loved Din. You knew as much. You knew from very early on, after a few weeks of settling into life with the pair of them on the Crest, you knew this was a life you could get used to. And you thanked the Maker that you could spend at least part of your life travelling the galaxy with two who you truly and genuinely loved. You wanted to let him know how you felt, but you knew The Way. And you knew you couldn’t put Din in a situation like that - partly because you didn’t want to disrespect the life he swore to uphold when he swore The Creed, and partly because you were terrified he didn’t feel the same, and he’d drop you off at the next system to avoid the awkwardness that would likely ensue.

So you kept quiet. You would often lie awake at night, thinking of endless scenarios of what life would be like if he knew. If he felt the same. If he took his helmet off, abandoning his bounty hunting life to settle down on a planet somewhere in the outer rim, just the three of you. _A clan of three._ There goes that thought again, and just as quickly as it enters your mind, it’s snatched away when you scold yourself for getting carried away. You’re setting yourself up for heartbreak, and you know it, but you’re too far gone to care.

Unbeknownst to you, Din would also often lie awake in the safe confines of his quarters, with his helmet removed, wondering how the soft touch of your hands would feel on his face. How your lips would fit against his. How perfect your body would slot into his as you laid together, your head tucked into the crook of his neck. These ephemeral thoughts calmed him after a long day, but they also brought pangs of sadness, knowing that they were only his imagination. She’d never feel the same. After all, how could she? All she’s ever known is the cold, unforgiving glare of Beskar. She’s never seen the longing on his face when she’s idly hanging up a small decoration she bought at a market, his mind racing at the thought of a domestic life with her. Nor had she seen the soft smile he can’t seem to shake when he catches her playing or chatting away with the Child.

He craved her touch. He’s only felt it in fleeting moments. Usually when one of them is badly injured after a particularly nasty run-in with a bounty. On many occasions, he’s been badly hit with a blaster in places he can’t patch up himself, and she silently reaches for the med-kit and beckons for him to sit with her. She removes his Beskar so softly, as if it isn’t one of the toughest materials around, and it makes his heart ache. She works mostly in silence, other than to ask him if it’s okay to lift his undershirt. She always asks. She doesn’t have to, and she knows, he’s told her so many times. But still she does. And that longing creeps into his entire body every time, knowing she truly respects his way of life.

When she works, her delicate hands clean the injury with feather-light touches, using a bacta spray to help with further healing, before applying a bandage. Even these light touches cause shivers to run up Din’s spine, and he knows it’s a ridiculous reaction to have, given the circumstances, but nobody has ever been so gentle with him. Nobody has ever taken the time to make sure he is okay. Once, he was so exhausted from a fight with a bounty that ended badly, that after he’d taken all his armour off, dropped it to the floor, and let you tend to his wounds, he’d fallen asleep where he’d been sat, in the hull of the ship. When he woke, he found a blanket draped over him, and all his armour was neatly arranged on the nearby shelves, seemingly having been polished. He was speechless. It was such a sweet gesture on your behalf, he didn’t know how to react. He wished he knew how to thank you for all you did for him. But he just didn’t know how.

When you helped with his injuries, you never failed to notice the almost imperceptible hitches in his breath, and small sighs he let out as you worked. You never questioned them, but they made you wonder when the last time he was ever touched by another person. _If_ he had been touched by another person since he swore the Creed, and vowed to live his life shielded from the world.

The day came when things left unspoken finally bubbled to the surface. Din had been out looking for a bounty, and had been gone for several days. You grew worried very quickly, as even the toughest of jobs brought him back to the Crest within a day or two. But it was four days since you’d last seen or heard from him. The Child was beginning to grow restless, being cooped up in the ship. You spent most of your time pacing the cockpit, trying to contact him, to no avail. You knew it was dangerous to leave the ship, and leave the Child unattended, so you had to settle for staying in the Crest and praying to the Maker that you’d see him emerge from the tree-line any minute.

You slept very lightly while Din was away, any and every noise rousing you, hoping it was the ramp lowering, and Din coming back. After five days of nothing, you finally heard that familiar hiss of the ramp to the Crest opening, and you all but sprinted from your cot to the ramp. You were ecstatic that he had returned, but also terrified at what state he may be in. You were right to feel this way, because once the ramp lowered and you caught a glimpse at him, you knew he was in trouble. He was leaning heavily on his left leg, and you ran down the ramp before he all but collapsed into your arms. Your movements were quick but soft as you dragged him into the Crest and closed the ramp door.

You set him on the floor and made quick work of removing his armour, disregarding your usual tentative movements. The more armour you removed, the more blood and grime you noticed on his underclothes, and the sight made your breath catch in your throat.

You spoke softly but with a sense of urgency, “Din… I’m going to take your underclothes off. Is that okay?”

You received no reply.

“Din? Can you hear me?” You tried again, but to no avail. You reached one hand under his neck to support it while you reached your other under his jaw, and could still feel a strong pulse, which calmed your nerves ever so slightly. But upon pulling your other hand back to rest his head on the ground, you noticed it was covered in blood. You began to really panic now, not knowing how to proceed with the situation. He needed serious medical attention, but you didn’t want to overstep the clear boundaries he lived by.

You knew his safety came first, but you also didn’t want to jeopardise his religion and risk him never being able to put the helmet back on again. So you removed his underclothes and got to work on all the injuries on his body first. His chest rising and falling as you worked comforted you by a fraction, but the lack of sighs and grunts made you acutely aware that his head injury needed treating soon.

You quickly disappeared to your room and ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of your blanket before coming back and dropping onto your knees by Din’s side yet again. You gathered all the materials you needed before securing the fabric around your eyes and tying it at the back of your head. You took a deep breath before reaching for Din’s helmet. You pressed a switch, and heard the hiss as you slowly lifted it from his head and placed it softly on the ground next to you.

You lifted him slightly and stuck a leg out underneath his shoulders, so you could feel the back of his head and assess the injury. You located the wound fairly easily, and while it wasn’t large, it was bleeding a lot, so you applied a bacta spray to it after wiping his hair first. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you ran your hands through his hair. After a few minutes of waiting for the bacta spray to set a little, you slowly felt his face using the hand not covered in blood, checking for any smaller injuries that may be there. You found nothing, and rested your hand on his cheek while you sighed, hoping you’d done enough for the meantime. You were shocked when you felt Din’s hand cover yours, and you immediately went to pull your hand away but his grip tightened.

He cleared his throat and croaked out a small “Thank you”. You smiled at his unfiltered voice, the first time you’d ever heard it. And while it was barely there, and scratchy, after all he’d been through, it was still him, and you couldn’t help but feel lucky to have heard it in all it’s beauty.

“It’s okay… I could probably do a better job of it, but with the blindfold, there’s only so much I can-“

“Take it off..” he whispered, and you flinched back in shock, not knowing if you heard him correctly.

After a beat of silence, his hand came up to rest on your cheek, mirroring your actions, and he slowly lifted the material covering your eyes. He chuckled and coughed a little when he noticed your eyes screwed shut. He came to rest his hand on your cheek again, the unfamiliar feel of his skin warm against yours, as his thumb moved slowly across your cheekbone. “You can open your eyes, _cyar’ika_ … it’s okay.”

You slowly obliged, and you were completely taken aback by his features. His soft brown eyes looked up at you, and despite the pain that must be coursing through his body, he was smiling at you. You took notice of his curly brown locks, some of which were stuck to his forehead. You brushed them away, before running your fingers down his hooked nose, to rest on his lips, where he lightly kissed your fingertips. Before you knew it, tears were falling from your eyes, and his face contorted into one of concern.

“I’m sorry, Din.” You breathed out as he swiped his thumb under your eye.

“What do you have to be sorry for, _mesh’la_?” He spoke, his voice a little stronger now.

“The Creed. I’ve seen your face... you can’t go back now. I’m so sorry.” You hung your head, and felt him slowly manoeuvre himself to sit up in front of you.

“What if I don’t want to go back?” He all but whispered, lifting your chin.

You met his gaze again and was frozen in place as he lent towards you and slowly brought your lips to his. You barely had time to react before he pulled away, your lips almost chasing his as he smiled against you.

“I’ve been thinking for a long while now, about you… about us. I get this unfamiliar feeling deep inside me when I think of you. When I see you with the Child. At first I dismissed it, thinking that was just how it felt to finally have a real friend. But then I would get worried sick when I was out looking for bounties… worried about you. Worried that something would happen to you here in the Crest and I’d be none the wiser. Then I realised. It was love.” He fell into silence, and you both sat there for what felt like an eternity, comfortable to just be there with each other, no more words needing to be exchanged.

He finally spoke up again, “I never acted on it, always telling myself ‘This is the way’. Telling myself this is the life I was born to live, it’s not fair to drag you into it. I never thought, for a second, that you could feel the same. But seeing you now, scared that I might be dying, but still blindfolding yourself to respect the Creed… that was all the confirmation I needed. Tell me I’m right?” He pulled away slightly to look in your eyes, and you saw tears brimming in his.

You nodded, not trusting your voice, before leaning in to kiss him back. Your lips touched, and in this kiss, you felt everything that had gone unspoken this past year. You broke apart and whispered against his lips, “I’ve always loved you Din.”

He whispered something back in Mando’a, and while you didn’t understand it, you’re sure you knew what he meant. You leaned back to look at him once more, and as you brushed his hair from his face, he winced slightly. His injuries dawned on you again, and you slowly rose, helping him to his quarters. You fetched him a glass of water, something to dull the pain, and something to eat, and out of habit, started to leave, when he grabbed your wrist and silently pleaded with you to stay. He moved to lay on his side and you joined him in his cot, resting your back against his chest. He closed his eyes, and couldn’t quite believe you were here in his cot, laying pressed against him, like he dreamed of not long ago. He remembers a time when he would chastise himself for thinking you would ever feel this way, and yet here you were.

The door to his quarters opened with a hiss and the Child moved slowly over to the bed, looking at the pair of you with his wide eyes. You leaned down to pick him up and place him against your chest, where he promptly fell asleep. Din wrapped his arm around both you and the Child and held you both securely as he drifted off. You stayed awake a little while longer, just laying there smiling to yourself. As sleep finally consumed you, only one thought danced in your mind - _you were finally a clan of three._

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated!! And I've opened requests for Mando fics on my tumblr @buckyodinson so head over there!


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